Forward
by DelicateBlossoms
Summary: Devastated by the death of her former teammate and long time love, Sakura strives to rebuild a life for herself. Who knew help would come in the form of a bug loving recluse?


Six months, fourteen days, and five hours marked the end of Sakura's life as she knew it, but it mattered not. Time no longer held any meaning for the devastated kunoichi.

What use was time to a dead woman?

Well, technically speaking she wasn't dead, but it sure as hell felt like it.

News of the Uchiha's demise had reached far and wide, the shockwave of power rippling across the lands as far as the eye could see. An entire clan wiped off the face of the earth, and yet no one seemed to care, outside of Team 7 that is.

Perhaps that was the most difficult of all. Life continued to move forward for everyone else, and yet for her it felt like the world had ended the day of his death.

His body had been recovered in Iwagakure, his eyes having been gouged out of his skull, a self inflicted wound if the report was to be believed. She didn't put it past him, the Uchiha's bloodline trait was formidable and if in the wrong hands would spell disaster for the entire shinobi world.

Regardless of the reason, when his body had been transferred back to Konoha, it had been left to her to perform the autopsy, determine that nothing essential had been left behind. She had been the one to clean his wounds, dress them accordingly and prepare his body for burial. They had felt it necessary to bury him alongside his fallen clansmen, another grave added to the Uchiha compound.

She had cried, sobbed over his lifeless form as she grieved for all the time lost, the devastation of her unrequited love, the loss of her teammate and friend. Hopes and dreams for his return had been cruelly dashed, opportunities lost forever. Guilt and regrets weighed heavily on her heart, her thoughts leading her down a spiralling path of self-hatred.

If only she had been stronger, she could have prevented his departure. Instead her vanity had cost her precious time, her beauty priority over her abilities and ultimately why he had overpowered her in the first place. Even then, she had been foolish and believed for years that he would return when he was ready, come to realize the life he could have if he would only come home.

Only his hatred for his brother fueled his desire for power, whatever the cost. Along the way, his soul had been corrupted, a heart so blackened that he felt the need to snuff out the lives of his former teammates and friends. Oh yes, she had loved him still, excused his behavior although it killed her to know he viewed her as nothing more than an obstacle in his endeavors to gain power.

They had wanted to believe that he would return, that the evil clouding his heart would dissipate with the power of their love.

It was only now that she realized how utterly ridiculous the notion was.

A part of her still loved the man, dead though he may be, and the idea that the rest of the world could move on without him tore at her soul. He was her longtime love, her friend, her comrade. They had fought, laughed, and endured so much together. Their bond had been strong after everything they had gone through.

After the fourth shinobi war, their team had reunited and over the last few years they had been inseparable, save for the odd missions and varying work schedules. They were hardly seen apart after his return since he was under mandatory probation for the first year, a jonin by his side at all times unless on the clan grounds.

She had taken to being his guard when not scheduled at the hospital, which was rare as many shinobi and even civilians had been injured in the battle, requiring extensive therapy and surgeries that required her expertise. Although work was tiresome, she never let it show, opting to be a pillar of strength in the village's time of need. There were many times she wanted to give up, to curl into herself and allow her mind to wallow in sorrow, but she refused to shut down when there was so much work that needed to be done.

It was difficult, the war having wrought more devastation than she could even imagine. Her parents had been two of the many casualties in the war, victims in the first assault as they fought to get others to safety. A noble death for two shinobi, though it never lessened the guilt she harbored over their deaths.

Even now as the weight of Sasuke's demise ate away at her heart, she desperately yearned for the harsh reprimand of her mother telling her to suck it up and get moving, the warm hugs and understanding smiles her father would give.

Utterly alone, she spent many nights holed up in her apartment, intent on shutting out the world that had carried on even though she could not. Begrudging, she went through the motions in the hospital stiffly, doing her job with a fake smile in place until she could return home and wish it all away.

Her friends had come as all good friends do and had attempted to pry her out of her depression, and yet none had prevailed. Naruto and Kakashi had understood the most, and had been content to give her time. Ino had as well, though she quickly grew tired of her friend's sour moods and had given up about a week ago in trying to get her out of the house.

Sakura had felt bad as they had a falling out over her health, an argument that she knew Ino was right in bringing up, but she couldn't bring herself to care as she spent her days in bed, refusing to eat and trying her hardest to find comfort in sleep that would never last.

Even now as her pillowcase lie damp beneath her, she willed the sunlight out, closed her eyes as the sing song of birds filtered in through her open window. Curled up in a tight ball, Sakura lie a broken lump in the middle of her mattress, carelessly tossed clothes littering the bed and what she could see of the floor.

Eyes misting, she clutched the pillow desperately as she fought off another wave of guilt, her brain barely registered the light knock sounding from beyond her door. Looking out, she waited to see if the noise would come again, and just as before three light knocks signalled companionship that she did not currently want.

Stilling, she prayed that the person on the other side of the door would give up and leave, but to her surprise a deep baritone voice made itself known over the silence.

"Haruno-san, may I have a word with you?"

Arms clutching tightly, she willed her heartbeat to slow and evened her breathing out, feigning sleep. It didn't deter the man on the other side of the door, however.

"I know you are not asleep, Haruno-san. I would appreciate it if you dropped the act."

Huffing in annoyance, she rose unsteadily from the bed and stomped over to the door, her mood souring even more than before as she hit the edge of her coffee table in her insomniatic stupor. Wrenching the door with enough force that it slammed back, cracking the wall behind it and swinging forward once more, she waited as a hand came up to catch it.

"What do you want, Shino?" She ground out, her expression clearly radiating annoyance as she stared up at his tall frame.

He merely stood there, clad in a longer version of his old trench coat, the material a charcoal black that buttoned all the way up to his neck. His signature rounded glasses stared back at her, a single slender brow lifted in what she assumed was amusement, judging by the small upturn of his lips.

"Why to see you get better, of course," he hummed, leaning on the doorframe absently, "Might I come in?"

"Uh, absolutely not. I'm not in the mood to entertain company," She huffed, turning to slam the door when a small bug landed gently on her shoulder, it's little wings flapping rhythmically as if in greeting.

"You do not need to entertain. I am here to make sure you get well. Now please may I come inside?" He whispered, although by the stern tone he had taken, she figured he wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

Sighing in irritation, she shuffled backwards and faceplanted onto her couch, a muffled and hard to decipher 'whatever' filling the now quiet space. She heard him shuffle inside and close the door, his footsteps pausing as he no doubt took in the cluttered mess that was her flat.

True to her word, the whole apartment was a mess, clothes scattered and tossed carelessly on the furniture, both open and unopened mail littering the counters as well as numerous take-out containers lining almost every inch of spare space. Cheeks heating, she turned her head into the tan leather of her sofa, the material cool against her heated flesh.

She heard his indifferent hum as he glanced around her domain, a few moments of silence passing thereafter, but eventually the soft steps reached her ears as he seemed to squat beside her.

"Haruno-san, when was the last time you ate a proper meal?"

Grabbing the soft pillow in front of her, she buried her head into the fabric mumbling something that sounded vaguely like an 'I don't know'.

She waited for a long moment, her face buried in the soft fabric as she heard the shinobi shift almost inaudibly on her carpet. She could only picture the absolute chaos of her tiny apartment, filled to the brim with evidence of her crumbling life much like her mental state. She must look a fool, but she couldn't really muster up the will to feel ashamed anymore.

"Come on. Get up," he encouraged softly, his voice low and calm as if talking to a wounded animal, "You should probably take a bath. It'll help."

She groaned and clutched the pillow tightly a weakly voiced protest swallowed by the material in her face. All at once she was met by the cool material of her sofa as the pillow was pried from her grip, her face smacking into the sofa.

"Ooomph- What was that for," she hissed glaring up at the unimpressed man in front of her.

Shino merely raised a brow, mercury tinted eyes staring at her behind an impenetrable layer of onyx, "Perhaps you should listen, Haruno-san. As I said earlier, you should go and bathe. It will help."

He ducked backwards, dodging the punch she had aimed his way, and grasped her wrist tightly. He felt the slight increase in her pulse, ignoring the hearty glare she sent his way, "I will not be ignored, Sakura. You can try to intimidate me like all the others, but I will not succumb so easily. Now, get moving or I'll throw you into the tub myself."

Huffing slightly, she leveled another punch his way, her fist glowing with the chakra lacing her attack, but he simply redirected her punch, forcing it away as if it were merely child's play. Growling, she shoved forward, flinging herself atop the unimpressed shinobi while she brought her fist down to his chest. A smirk of satisfaction washed over her as he seemed to double over, a flash of pain crossing his features.

She smiled triumphantly, but was quick to deflate as he dematerialized before her eyes, a puff of smoke trailing upwards as his body dissolved into his infamous kikaichu. Whipping her head around, she just barely caught the flash of darkness as his coat ruffled behind him when she was enveloped in a pair of strong arms, pinning her to the ground with his larger frame.

"Let me go," she growled, thrashing in his grip relentlessly.

"Not until you calm down. I don't really fancy the idea of being battered," he teased before his voice dropped a register, "It's no use trying to fight me, Sakura. No matter how many times you fight, cry or curse me, I will be here."

Eyes widening, she crumpled to the floor, her body trembling as she tried desperately to fight back the tears she knew were coming.

His words were not empty promise, that she knew from the many years they had worked alongside each other. If he said he would stand by her, then he absolutely meant it.

Truly, she was grateful not to be alone, but she hated her vulnerability, how broken she had become. Team 7 were the only ones who knew how she felt, could empathize with her as they too were devastated by the Uchiha's death, but she couldn't turn to them for comfort. She needed to be strong for everyone, her remaining teammates, her patients, the village, and yet she was so tired.

How long could one go on with a broken heart? How long could someone survive, giving of themselves day in and day out while they themselves were empty?

"Why?" She sobbed, her fists curling into the carpet as she buried her face in the scruffy material, "Why are you here?"

Gently, the weight on her back disappeared only to be replaced as gentle hands brought her into his arms, their grip locking around her lower back. Arms circling unconsciously, she buried her face in his neck and sobbed, her body curling into his as she allowed herself to mourn in front of someone for the first time.

"Because I care," was his faint reply as he hugged back tighter, not heeding the water soaking into his shirt or her broken wails.


End file.
